I'll End You
by LuciHara
Summary: Ryou is wracked with grief after losing Bakura during Battle City. Malik tries to help him through it, but when the spirit of the ring manages to come back, something in Ryou changes. BxR. Explicit content warning. Lemon that just kinda happened. One-shot


***Author's note:** I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or anything related to it. Also, this story is somewhere between canon and AU, set after Battle City. There will most likely be several OOC instances for the sake of writing this story the way I imagine it in my head. Artistic license and all that. So enjoy the ride, read and review, and all that other fluff.

 **Also:** Marik = Yami Marik and Malik = Marik, so as to avoid any confusion*

It was cold. Or he was. He felt empty, lost, shattered...and cold; always cold. From the moment Bakura had been sent back, it was as if half of his very being had disappeared. In fact, he supposed it really had disappeared. Marik had destroyed the little bit of balance Ryou had. He didn't necessarily _like_ Bakura; Bakura was perpetually reminding him of his weaknesses and, upon finding out he could physically touch his host, he made it a point to regularly inflict pain upon the boy. Despite all that, he also made Ryou feel whole. It sounded stupid, even in his own rambling thoughts. But having his Yami around, however vicious he may have been, made him feel like a complete person instead of the shell of one.

So here he was, lying on his bathroom floor like he had done every day since that duel, wallowing in his misery like the pathetic little human he was. Bakura would've laughed at him. He would've told him to stop his blubbering and clean himself up. But Bakura wasn't here anymore (that thought brought tears to his eyes), so he continued his private pity party, curling himself into the fetal position and praying that the world would cease to exist. Or at least, that he would cease to exist.

He still went to his classes; his perfectionist brain refused to let him give up on school. He didn't want to be there. He hated plastering a fake smile on his face and pretending he wasn't dying inside. He hated seeing Yugi and that smug fucking Pharoah (where the bloody hell had that thought come from?). He hated everything about being there. But he went. And then he would walk home alone, lost in his thoughts, only to arrive at his empty apartment. He'd finish his homework, make a cup of tea, and then he would end up right back on the floor sobbing with such intensity that one would think he had lost his soulmate. That was a fairly accurate assumption, except that he had lost a literal part of his soul. Rinse and repeat, day after day, night after night, as time slipped by without him.

The only reprieve from this miserable cycle came in the form of the one who had started it all. Well...sort of. Marik had delivered the blow that sent Bakura back to the darkness. Malik had attempted to save Bakura from that fate. He had failed, but at least he had made the effort. That's how Ryou rationalized Malik's involvement anyway. And for that matter, Malik was in a similar boat. He and his Yami got along significantly better than Ryou and Bakura ever had, but he understood the pain of such a loss. Plus, Malik felt guilty for causing it. So, every so often he would show up at Ryou's apartment, a case of beer in one hand and a few new books for the white haired teen in the other. He didn't know how to bring their Yamis back, but he could at least try to help Ryou survive the crippling ache of Bakura's absence.

Ryou wasn't a huge fan of drinking, but that was most likely due to the binges Bakura would go on periodically. The torture and torment was always worse when alcohol had it's grip on the darker one's mind. Yet, when Malik brought it, he never turned it down. If nothing else, it numbed his own brain enough that he could briefly dull the ache in his chest and even smile a little at the antics of his goofy Egyptian friend.

And then one night when Ryou was having a particularly rough bout of depression and was lying motionless on the bathroom floor, too exhausted to even cry at that point, the front door opened. Had he imagined that sound? It was the distinct click of the pins turning, the suction sound doors make when being pushed open and separated from the side of the frame, the faint squeak of the hinges. He had definitely heard it. But no one had a key but himself. And the only other person who knew where the spare was hidden was...

Before he could finish the thought, a rush of heat shot through his body. The black hole that had formed in his soul with the loss of his Yami felt as if it was shrinking. It felt like...like when he had first put on the Sennen Ring that had brought Bakura to him years before. That feeling of trepidation, anxiety, and...wholeness...washed over him as he heard footsteps drawing closer to the door of the bathroom. It couldn't be, could it?

In an instant, Ryou was at the sink rinsing his face of the long since dried tears. The door swung open and a figure stood in the doorway, his eyes obscured by wild silvery white locks.

"Honey...I'm home!," he growled at the smaller boy, a vicious-looking smirk splayed on his lips.

"Did you miss me, landlord?," Bakura sneered, seizing Ryou by his hair to turn his face toward his own.

"B-Bakura," he couldn't believe what was happening, "you're back. But h-how?"

"None of your business. Now, if you don't mind, we have some catching up to do."

Before Ryou has time to process, before he could even grasp the fact that his Yami was back, he felt the familiar sting of a hand across his face. Then he was flat on his ass on the cold tile floor. He knew what was coming. Bakura was about to beat the hell out of him. He'd end his night being bloodied and bruised as Bakura took out all of his anger and rage on him. He was accustomed to being a punching bag. But it didn't matter; his other half was back. But the beating didn't come. He had felt Bakura pin him down, straddling his hips, preparing to attack. Instinctively, Ryou had shut his eyes and drawn his arms up in a feeble attempt to cover his face from his Yami's assault.

But none of that was happening. Instead, he felt Bakura shift slightly, as if sitting up straight. Ryou slowly opened his eyes, confused by his other half's actions, and was only met with a look of bewilderment lingering on Bakura's face.

"What the actual fuck, Yadonushi?"

Ryou continued to stare at him in stunned silence.

"I show back up, pick up where I left off kicking your ass into submission, and you're...you're...smiling?!"

The boy hadn't even been aware of the smile on his face. And that smile was gradually turning into a grin, that would soon become a fit of laughter. He had flustered the all powerful, ever vengeful King of Thieves. Bakura thrived on Ryou's pain; he had no idea how to react to his joy.

"Why in almighty hell are you so happy? I attacked you. I knocked you down, I was prepared to leave blood spatters on the wall, and you know this from experience. Yet here you are with a grin on your face. Have you forgotten who I am so quickly?"

"No Bakura, I haven't forgotten," Ryou spoke, nearly a whisper, as he started to push up to his elbows.

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because...because you're back," he replied shyly, avoiding the frustrated gaze of his Yami.

Bakura climbed off of Ryou. Flabbergasted by his hikari's response, he plopped down on the floor, one leg bent up with his arm resting on it. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to will away a headache, and he sighed deeply.

"You're a fucking lunatic, ya know that?," he spoke suddenly.

"Yeah, I know. You've said that before."

After a few moments, Ryou dared to speak again.

"So...um...does this mean Marik is back, too?"

Bakura looked up then, annoyance apparent on his sharp features.

"How the hell should I know?"

"I just thought, ya know, since you made it out of there and all..."

"I told you, Little host, I AM the darkness. I always come back."

Ryou sat quietly, glancing at his Yami every so often to make sure he was really here. He felt his cheeks blush slightly, looking at the frighteningly beautiful man in front of him. That was what he was: frightening as all hell, but so beautiful that it'd stop you in your tracks and make you forget that your life was in danger.

They weren't sure exactly how long they sat on the cold tile. It felt like hours, but it could've easily been just a few minutes. Between Bakura's arrival, and then Ryou's brief moment of what appeared to be a mental break (at least to Bakura), time held no meaning.

Eventually, however, Ryou heard the faint rumble of Bakura's empty stomach. Or was it his? Even with the darker half shutting him out most of the time, he still periodically caught waves of whatever Bakura was feeling, so he wasn't always sure which one of them was hungry.

"Um, Bakura? Would you...like something to eat?," he asked softly as he stood up. His knees ached a bit from sitting cross legged for so long.

Bakura, again taken aback by the kindness of his host, stared at him for a long moment as if Ryou had just spoken to him in another language. He hadn't really noticed until now that the teen was absolutely stunning. The way his hair fell across his eyes, the delicate frame, the soft porcelain skin. With the bathroom light above his head, and the angle from which Bakura was sitting, his hikari seemed to glow with divine radiance. He wanted to kiss him, just to make sure the angel in front of him was real. Wait...did that thought seriously just pop into his head? He had obviously been locked away, alone, for much too long.

Ryou stood there, looking at his Yami, waiting for a reply. Shit, he realized he hadn't actually said anything and probably looked like a fool staring at him.

"Uh, yeah. I guess."

Now it was Ryou's turn to be dumbstruck. Bakura hadn't yelled at him to prepare food. He hadn't even beaten him half to death. He was...almost pleasant. Almost. It was best not to assume things would change. Bakura was notorious for toying with him. He'd let him build up a false sense of comfort, only to suddenly explode, yanking the metaphorical rug from beneath him.

After eating in silence, Bakura decided to get out of the apartment. Today had been way to weird for comfort.

With him gone, Ryou decided to call Malik.

"Hello?," came the familiar voice.

"Hey Malik, it's Ryou. Um...so...Bakura..."

"He's back too?!"

That was the answer to the unasked question Ryou was looking for.

"Yeah. He's back."

"Is everything okay? Did he do something? Are you alright? Do I need to come over?"

"What? No. Everything's fine. He didn't do anything. That's what made it so weird. He didn't fight with me. He started to, but then he just, I don't know. He just stopped and sat down and looked at me like I'd suddenly sprouted a second head."

"Hm. Well, Marik hasn't changed much. Still an asshole. An attractive one, but all the same, still an asshole."

Ryou laughed at his friend, truly laughed. It felt so good to genuinely laugh.

"Well, uh, Bakura's here. He came to see Marik. They're coming back to your apartment, I assume to drink and plot and complain about the pharaoh. So I guess I'll see you in a bit."

"Oh, okay. See you soon," Ryou replied before hanging up the phone.

He felt a slight pang of jealousy. Malik and Marik didn't always see eye to eye, but Marik did hurt him the way Bakura always hurt Ryou. They actually seemed to have a fairly stable relationship. He wished silently that Bakura wouldn't despise him forever.

When the three of them arrived at the apartment, they split into their usual pairs. Marik and Bakura went to the kitchen, gathered a couple bottles of liquor from the cabinet, and sat down at the dining table. It was definitely a liquor night. Malik and Ryou sat down in the living room, talking quietly so as not to disturb the two in the kitchen.

After an hour or so of Malik and Ryou trying to figure out just exactly how their Yamis had come back, they decided that there were simply some things they'd never fully understand. And then something in Ryou changed. The air seemed heavier, and he felt anger course through him. Anger toward Malik, toward Marik, toward the situation as a whole. Malik felt a sense of aggression engulfing his friend that he'd never felt before. He glanced up at Ryou's face and saw the same glint of rage shining in his usually-kind dark eyes; a rage that could rival Bakura's. He scooted back a fraction of an inch, unsure of what might happen.

"How. Could. You?" His normally timid voice was replaced by one that was cold, dark. His words calculated and sharp.

"W-what?," Malik was stunned and afraid.

"I said, how could you? How could you have done this to me?"

Bakura has gotten up to go to the restroom and was heading back to the kitchen, but stopped short, hiding himself from view as he heard Ryou speak. The question had taken him off guard. Did Ryou feign his joy at Bakura's return? Wouldn't matter to him either way, but the tone of Ryou's voice intrigued him. He had to see where this conversation with the tomb keeper went.

"How could I do what, Ryou?," Malik was nervous, but he wasn't showing it.

"You took him from me. You ripped him away," his voice was barely above a whisper, but there was malice dripping from his words.

"Half of my soul! You tore my soul apart with no regard for my feelings!"

"Ryou, Marik sent him away. I was on Bakura's side. I tried to spare him."

"YOU got him into the mess in the first place! If you hadn't been involved, I wouldn't have spent the past year trying to find the will to live. You caused more torment, more pain, than he ever has. Do you have any idea how sick I am of everyone? Between that fucking Pharoah thinking he knows what's best for everyone, and you causing me to lose the only person who made me feel like a whole person, I'm not sure who pisses me off more. I don't care that he treated me like a doormat. I don't care that he seemed to despise my very existence, or that he enjoyed kicking my ass on a daily basis, just for the hell of it. None of his faults matter, because what you did was exponentially worse. You broke me. You damn near destroyed me when you sent him away," Ryou realized he was starting to get louder and began to worry that the two men in the other room would hear his verbal attack. Still unaware of his presence behind the doorframe, Bakura continued to listen, waiting for the moment Ryou would collapse in violent sobs. But it didn't come. Instead, Ryou's voice dropped to just above a whisper as he stared at Malik with a look of pure hatred that could've given Bakura a run for his money. He felt a chill run through him, afraid that his friend might lunge at him at any moment.

"Ryou...I'm so..."

"Shut up. I'm not finished," Ryou snapped, eliciting a stifled chuckle and a smirk from Bakura as he continued to eavesdrop.

"Let me spell this out for you. If you, or Marik, or anyone else for that matter, ever so much as thinks about doing something like that to me again, I will end you. I will gut you and bathe in your blood," he said, his words laced with venom. His eyes had grown much darker than Malik had ever seen them. He knew the sweet, delicate white-haired boy was serious. It was the first time he had ever been afraid of Ryou.

And then, as quickly as his countenance had darkened, it dissipated. Ryou realized he was holding his breath as Malik stood up and walked over to tell Marik that it was, perhaps, time to head home for the night. Marik followed him to the door, not noticing that Malik was actively avoiding eye contact with Bakura's host.

As the door closed, Bakura emerged from his hiding spot.

"I have to say, little host, I'm impressed."

"You heard all of that?," Ryou asked, apprehension apparent in his voice.

"Oh yes. I most certainly did," he grinned evilly, almost seductively.

"I didn't mean to cause a scene," Ryou said, looking down at his hands.

He didn't see Bakura cross the room, but in the next instant he was standing in front of him. He grabbed Ryou's chin, forcing the boy's eyes to meet his own, and relishing the hint of fear in them. He leaned down so they were nose to nose.

"I have to say, Yadonushi, I think I might like this new side to you. You should know by now, anger and rage excite me; and I've never been so turned on as I am right now after watching you verbally assault the pesky little tomb keeper," he purred before pressing his lips to Ryou's.

Ryou was so surprised by the action, he didn't have time to fight back before Bakura started ripping his shirt off of him. Not that he really wanted to complain. Bakura had fucked him before, but it was always violent. He used him for his own gratification and then tossed him to the side. But this was different; he could sense it in the air. And he felt a rust of lust like he'd never felt before.

Ryou reached his hands up so he could tangle his fingers in Bakura's hair, pulling his Yami's body on top of his in the process. For the first time ever, Bakura felt Ryou kissing him back, welcoming his hands on his body, and moaning in pleasure as the darker one teased him through his jeans. He didn't protest when Bakura unzipped them and removed them, or when Bakura also stripped down. He pulled him closer to him as Bakura prepared to enter him, instead of clawing at his face and begging for him to stop. He thought the lack of terror from his hikari would ruin his mood, but as it turned out, hearing Ryou cry out his name in pleasure as he pushed his cock inside of him was better than when he cried out from pain and fear.

Everything about it was better. Ryou moved his hips in time with Bakura's thrusts, drawing him in deeper. Bakura moaned, burying his face against his light's neck, as the younger one nipped at his shoulder and dug his nails into his back. Breathing raggedly, Ryou leaned up to his ear.

"Harder. Please. I want every inch of you inside of me. Fuck me like you mean it," he said, gasping out the words, his voice shaky from the pleasure of what his Yami was doing to him.

It took Bakura a second to register the words that had left his light's mouth. But without missing a beat, he complied.

"How could I possibly say no to that?," he replied, his eyes narrowing a bit.

He pulled out until just the tip of his manhood remained inside Ryou's tight, perfect entrance. Then without warning, he forced himself all the way in, eliciting a cry of pleasure and pain from the boy below. He slipped in and out of him rapidly, pounding into him as hard as physically possible. At this point, Ryou was begging him to make him cum. He couldn't hold on much longer. He flipped Ryou over onto his hands and knees and pushed his thick, throbbing cock into his ass. He reached around to stroke Ryou's arousal and Ryou responded by pushing back into him, urging him to go deeper once again. Despite what was currently happening, Bakura was still slightly surprised that Ryou was willingly giving himself to him instead of trying to escape his grasp. Maybe things really could change around here. Maybe.

But before he time to process another thought, Ryou cried out his name as he came. As his body spasmed around him, a wave of desire rushed through Bakura and he picked up his pace, mercilessly fucking the light beneath him, seeking his own release. Ryou continued to moan in pleasure, his voice sending Bakura over the edge.

They collapsed, worn and weary, Bakura holding Ryou close to him. Ryou turned to face his Yami. Bakura looked down into his eyes, running his fingers mindlessly through Ryou's hair. He placed a kiss on top of his head, afraid his little host might suddenly take off running. But instead, Ryou laid back against him, breathing steadily.

"I'm glad you're back Bakura."

"Me too, Yadonushi. Me too."

 ***Well, that was a straight up emotional rollercoaster. I hadn't planned to include a lemon, but it just sort of happened. Hope you enjoyed reading!***


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